Quiet Moments
by nerdlife4eva
Summary: Through a series of one-shots, we get a glimpse into Viktor and Yuri's relationship (domestic Victurri). This will be updated as these small scenes pop into my mind. Rated M to be safe, but it is not more explicit than the show itself.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm new to the Yuri! On Ice fanbase, but I am so glad that I came across it! The loving and accepting world created by Kubo does not compare to any other series I have ever seen. (Although, please if you have another suggestion, I am all ears!) I do not believe there is any way to improve upon this series, as the healthy respected love of the main characters is enough to make my heart happy. I did decide to write this one-shot because I couldn't resist the need to live inside this world a little longer. Praying that season 2 continues with the amazing themes of season 1. I hope you enjoy this wonderfully romantic and caring one shot of my new favorite couple!**

 **This is set following the press conference wherein Yuuri declares his theme for the GPF series. (Also see: how they officially became a couple)  
**

* * *

Viktor couldn't think of a better place to watch Yuuri's press conference than surrounded by the family he had grown to love over the past few months. They had been a constant source of support and encouragement for his skater, and had welcomed Viktor with open arms from the minute he arrived. The only downfall to his current spot on the floor was that the broadcast of the press conference was being shown in Japanese only, without subtitles in any language he could read. He loved seeing how passionate Yuuri was on the screen, minus the horrendous suit and tie that Viktor swore he would burn as soon as Yuuri arrived home. He made this statement out loud, and then paused as all the faces next to him slowly turned in his direction. They all looked confused and slightly alarmed, making him laugh awkwardly.

As the press conference shifted from the skaters to the commentators' mundane explanations of the Grand Prix as a whole, Viktor stretched his legs elevating himself to a standing position. His mind was replaying the adamant facial expression of his skater. Yuuri had come a long way, and their relationship had become increasingly closer. It was of mild interest to Viktor that his primary emotion when Yuuri had left for the press conference was sadness. If he had learned anything during his time with Yuuri, it was that his life was much brighter when Yuuri was there with him. Although their relationship was progressing more slowly than Viktor had expected, he found there was beauty in the slow-paced discovery of all the pieces of Yuuri that made him beautiful.

On his night stand, his phone began to vibrate, changing his direction to retrieve it from across the room. He had been tagged in an extraordinary number of posts, but his attention was drawn first and foremost to the texts from Chris.

"Ay, Viktor, so this little Japanese man really is the reason you left competition?" Viktor's eyebrows disappeared into his hair line in surprise. "I thought relationships were off limits. I guess Yuuri's performance last year really struck your fancy."

Viktor smirked. He knew Chris wasn't referencing Yuuri's performance during the Grand Prix which was lackluster and full of hesitation. Clicking the link that Chris had forwarded along with his probing text, Viktor stood in frozen silence watching a reply of the conference with the Russian dubbed over top of Yuri's words.

Love was the first word Viktor registered, instantly trying to memorize the symbol Yuuri had drawn on his board. The rest of Yuuri's words flew straight into his heart, making it feel as if his chest was going to burst open. He sat, clutching his chest watching the press conference on repeat. Viktor had never held back his affections, only pulling back to allow Yuuri to meet him halfway. It had killed him not to declare his love for Yuuri to the world.

His hands shook as he restarted the video for a fourth time. If he looked away from it, for even a second it could have disappeared like a dream. After a fifth time through, Viktor shook the fog from his mind and stood, hastily grabbing clothes to put on his body,carelessly moving about the room as he shoved shoes on his feet. Calling Makkachin, he rushed from the room and out into the front courtyard of the hot spring.

Yuuri's mom watched as the silver-haired, red-cheeked idol of her son flew from the front entrance. All she had ever wanted was for Yuuri to be happy and it looked like that dream was about to come true for her boy. She hummed as she continued to serve customers, eagerly waiting for the boys to return so she could celebrate them in earnest.

* * *

Yuuri was shaking. Somewhere in the middle of his declaration his mind had gone blank and his heart had spoken directly from his chest. Phichit had already tagged him in a video of his statement, with his best friend's shocked face imposed over the corner. Phichit had conveniently tagged both Viktor and Yuuri in the Russian dubbed version of the press conference as well, ensuring that Viktor would understand Yuuri's meaning. His friend was apparently also the originator of the now trending hashtag "Victuuri." If embarrassment could kill a person, Yuuri was certainly well on his way to being dead.

Only part of him had known what he was going to say when presented with the white board. He and Viktor had discussed the press conference. At one point he had boldly declared to Viktor that his theme would be "on my love," but he had never been brave enough to speak explicitly as to who inspired that love. As he stood there, marker in one hand, board in the other, all he could think of was Viktor. He wished Viktor was standing with him instead of being with his family at the hot spring. Then he thought how wonderful it was that Viktor was a part of his family now. It was Viktor's face that kept circling in his mind, every facial expression, all of his advice, and most of all his laugh. Sometime during the Viktor montage in his mind, Yuuri had subconsciously scribbled the word "love" on his board. Looking down at it, all the pieces clicked and his fears faded away. Viktor was his strength and his love; it was time he told the whole world.

Now though, as he walked toward his home he could feel the nervous shaking of his hands inside his jacket pockets. What if he was wrong about all of Viktor's flirting? Yuuri had never been in love before and had certainly never been in a real relationship. What if Viktor wasn't flirting with him? Minako had been telling Yuuri for weeks to wake up and pay attention to Viktor's advances, but he remained in denial, convinced that Viktor was playing with him or trying to motivate him in a misguided way.

Their first competition together had changed that though. The way Viktor had touched his lips, the way he had gently placed cotton in his nose to stop the bleeding, the emphatic hugging after his scores were revealed, each had done its job, chipping away Yuuri's doubts about Viktor's feelings. All of those memories had fueled the fire in Yuuri's speech and were the only reason he was putting one foot in front of the other now. He had been wrong so many times in his life, but there was still a small piece of him that was clinging to the hope that he wasn't this time.

"Yuuri!"

The voice was punctuated with the bark of the dog, invading Yuuri's impending anxiety attack and snapping his head up. Standing only a few feet from him was the man he loved, Makkachin happily racing between the two of them. "Um, hi, Viktor." His voice sounded insecure and hesitant, gaze darting between the beautiful blue eyes in front of him and the overexcited dog at his feet. "Did you watch?"

His Yuuri looked so nervous that Viktor had to actively restrain himself from rushing to hold him. "I watched it," Viktor paused, placing a finger over his mouth, "pity I don't speak Japanese."

Yuuri narrowed his eyes at Viktor. He had seen the man like Phichit's post with the Russian commentator's translation. Viktor could be a flirt all he wanted, but it was time to turn the tables on the teasing. "Oh, it was nothing interesting." Yuuri shrugged, moving to walk past Viktor, tugging his smile in by biting his bottom lip.

Viktor snaked his hand around Yuuri's arm as the younger man went to pass him. "Yuuri," he purred, no longer able to keep his façade going. When brown eyes met blue, Viktor felt his heart flip over, "did you mean all of those things you said?"

Yuuri swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing noticeable behind his scarf. "Every word, Viktor." The arms came around him so hard and fast that he felt the air knocked from his lungs. Smiling, he burrowed his face into Viktor's shoulder, returning the strong embrace.

"So your lover then," Viktor repeated his words from the beach feeling Yuri nod into his shoulder, "I shall try my best."


	2. Chapter 2

**LOVE WINS - Post Kiss in Episode 7 as these two adorkable lovers head back to their hotel. Is there any love more wonderful and inspiring than these two? I honestly think not!**

* * *

The ride to the hotel had been uneventful. Strangers watching them wouldn't have noted the difference in their demeanor, but the soft smiles and intertwined fingers spoke to the effects of the kiss on each of them.

The press had asked, as soon as they had stepped from the facility. The questions weren't demanding or lewd, more sweet and encouraging. Their answers had been short, referring simply to the theme of love which was both triumphant on the ice and in their lives. "Love wins," Viktor had stated with a wink to the camera. Yuuri had felt those words penetrate his heart and settle there, leaving him euphoric.

Fingers squeezed together, thumbs rubbing circles on the opposite hands, the partners took the elevator ride to their hotel room. All was still quiet.

Opening the door to the hotel room they shared, Yuuri smiled behind Viktor's back at the beds they had clumsily shoved together. More than ever, Yuuri was excited to crawl into the soft sheets, to curl into the comfort that was Viktor. He was physically and emotionally exhausted from skating. The only cure he could see for such exhaustion was the love of the arms of his favorite person. Reluctantly, Yuuri released Viktor's hand to move to the small washer in the room. His costume and Viktor's suit would go out for professional cleaning; his warm up clothes, however, needed to go straight into the machine to avoid the stench of his sweat permeating the entire room.

Viktor stood at the foot of his bed, loosening his tie without losing his eye contact with Yuuri's back, the smile still dancing on his face. He removed his coat, laying it gently on the back of a nearby chair. He remembered how he had worn a suit on the first day of competition as Yuuri's coach. He had claimed that it was for the press, while knowing that he cared only for one pair of eyes to focus on him. His heart always raced to extraordinary levels seeing Yuuri in his old costumes. It was natural that he would wish to have the same effect on Yuuri, so he had purchased a new suit. The look on Yuuri's face that day had made the money worth it.

Muscles beginning to stiffen, Yuuri groaned as he pulled his shirt from his head dropping it into the washer's opening. His shoes had already been discarded, his socks already thrown into the machine. It was an overwhelming task to peel off his sweat-drenched pants and took far longer than it should have. Yuuri was relieved to feel the cool air whisking across his skin, eager to replace that feeling with warm water.

Viktor's mind had gone blank watching Yuuri painstakingly remove his pants. Automatically, he had finished removing his own clothing, unable to cease staring at the bare body of his beloved skater. Swiftly, Viktor crossed the room, running his hands on Yuuri's naked back. "Yuuri," he breathed the words onto Yuuri's neck, "you need to stretch." He felt Yuuri sigh under the touch of his hands, relishing in the fact that the younger man was no longer panicking at the older man's caress.

"I wish we were back at home," Yuuri swallowed hard realizing he had qualified the springs as home for both of them. His smile softened when his heart reassured him that this was the truth, even if neither of them had declared it out loud.

"The bathtub is woefully inadequate, I'm afraid," Viktor continued his slow massage of Yuuri's back muscles, his concern increasingly growing over the tension he found there. Warming up was just as important as cooling down and the delay for proper cool down had already been remarkable. "The shower it is then," Viktor walked toward the bathroom, smiling over his shoulder at Yuuri's slightly shocked expression. Once inside, he turned the knobs of the shower setting all of the nozzles to the hottest water possible. Where the bathtub was entirely lacking, the shower made up for it with its walk-in access and multiple heads from each wall.

Viktor's casual nakedness should have become expected by now. Unfortunately, it still took Yuuri by surprise and left him shaking the fuzz out of his brain. He was a full minute behind Viktor's entrance to the bathroom, greeted by a steam-filled room and the inviting hum of the running water. The ache was beginning to crawl through every inch of him, causing him to think of nothing else but stumbling into the warm water to seek relief. Losing his footing in his ever-growing daze, Yuuri was caught by the warm arms of Viktor saving his face from implanting on the shower wall.

Viktor smiled at Yuuri's embarrassment, lifting his athlete to a standing position, facing away from Viktor's face. "On ice, you are magic, my love," Viktor didn't resist kissing the back of Yuuri's head gently, "but mere walking may be the death of you."

Deep red patches appeared on Yuuri's face. Viktor was always poised, smooth in every situation. Yuuri on the other hand, possessed a clumsiness that was legendary. As his panic began to spike, the voice of the man he loved broke through to him.

"Calm now, Yuuri," Viktor ran his hand down the underbelly of Yuuri's right arm, lifting it over his head to stretch the taut muscles. He ticked the seconds in his head, gently releasing the arm and moving to the left arm to repeat the movement. Viktor punctuated the seconds with light kisses on Yuuri's shoulders, amused by the happy gurgles escaping his partner. Physicality did not need to be rushed, when you planned to love the person forever.

It was enough to feel Viktor's tender touches to leave Yuuri's mind completely intoxicated. The kiss at the rink had unlocked everything they had been building during their time together. Without words it had cemented all the thoughts they had shared. Yuri allowed a small gasp to squeak passed his lips when he felt Viktor's arm circle his abdomen. Long fingers spread over his navel as Viktor's other hand ran down his left thigh, gently pulling his leg up and back into a full stretch. The pain caused Yuuri to strain against the grasp. He leaned one hand on the wall of the shower, letting the water crash down upon his head as he wrapped his fingers over Viktor's on his own stomach muscles.

The sorrow of hurting Yuuri was written across Viktor's face. He had let the time pass too quickly, wanting to savor their moment on the ice for selfish reasons. Now the man he loved was suffering for it and the guilt was overwhelming. "I'm sorry, Yuuri," Viktor allowed Yuuri's left leg to come to rest, gently rotating his grasp to adjust and lift Yuuri's right leg instead, "I fear we have waited too long to stretch you out and now there is pain."

In spite of the lightening firing up his leg, Yuuri chuckled at the implications of Viktor's words. His laughter increased when he felt the startled flutter of Viktor's fingers against his stomach.

Shock and intrigue sprang to Viktor's face as he heard Yuuri's laugh ripple through the shower. It wasn't helping that Yuuri's body was now vibrating against Viktor's wet lower half. It took all of Viktor's resolve to finish the stretch count and lower Yuuri's leg.

The silence behind him once again caused the panic to rise in Yuuri. He hadn't meant anything by the laughter, it had merely been his sheepish reaction to potential new beginnings in their relationship. Straightening, he turned to Viktor, face going straight under the powerful running water and plastering his matted hair over his nose and eyes.

Viktor took his turn to laugh at the lovable sight of his boyfriend. Every time Viktor was convinced Yuuri couldn't be any cuter, he did something undeniably adorable. Laughter ringing loudly against the shower walls as the happiness of both men collided, Viktor reached forward with both hands to wipe the hair from Yuuri's face. The blush covering Yuuri's cheeks made Viktor's heart swoon.

It would have been easy to take advantage of the moment, to push boundaries, but Yuuri wasn't sure what he was ready to pursue. To keep the laughter flowing, Yuuri reached behind Viktor seizing the shampoo bottle and dumped shampoo onto Viktor's perfect silver hair. He relinquished the bottle to Viktor's eager hand and moved his hands into the soft hair that he loved to touch so much.

Sighing, Viktor let his motions become derailed by the sensual feeling of Yuuri's hands massaging his scalp. He didn't need to have his hair washed, but he couldn't bring himself to mention this fact. They had bathed in the hot springs together, rinsed sand out of each other's hair on the beach, but nothing felt quite like Yuuri's hands did in that moment. As Yuuri began to direct the water over Viktor's scalp, fingers alternating between massaging and stroking, Viktor wrapped his arms around his love's waist, pulling their bodies closer. As a world famous figure skater, there had been moments that he would consider the best in his life. None of those compared to the moment currently being created.

When Yuuri had finished with Viktor's hair, he kissed Viktor's exposed forehead, smiling against the wet skin. He reached for the bar of soap, when Viktor's hand enveloped his.

"I showered before your competition," Viktor began lathering the soap in his hands, "it is you that I believe is in need of cleaning." The widening of Yuuri's eyes did nothing to dissuade Viktor's need to touch him. Carefully, he scrubbed every inch of his love's body, also returning the favor of washing Yuuri's matted hair. Viktor shook his head at Yuuri's knots which snarled his fingers as he rinsed out the shampoo. "We will sort this mess out!" Viktor stated cheerfully making Yuuri giggle.

"It is all the gel you make me wear!" Yuuri slapped at Viktor's arm. Flirting was still a new sport for him, but one he had decided he would also like to excel in.

Smirking, Viktor pulled Yuuri's face closer to his, "it keeps your hair from your face, making you absolutely irresistible." He could feel Yuuri's reaction more than he could see it, loving every second of their intimate contact. Viktor had waited almost a year to be this close to Yuuri and he planned to make every second count. With a small inhale of breath, Viktor met Yuuri's lips for a second time, finding them as soft and welcoming as he had in the middle of the ice rink.

The kiss was slower now, not plagued by reporters and fans, and Yuuri couldn't help getting lost in it. There was no force or demand, only love personifying itself between two hearts that so desperately needed to be filled. Yuuri whimpered slightly when Viktor pulled away.

"Time for rest now," Viktor turned the water off and retrieved two plush towels from the rack. Watching each other closely, they dried their own bodies, taking the time to calm themselves. Retreating into the bedroom, Viktor plucked Yuuri's comb from the bedside table and sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed.

Yuuri settled himself in front of Viktor, face angled toward the ceiling. He yelped at Viktor's pull at his knots, but quickly settled back concentrating on the feeling of Viktor's fingers in his hair. From the first competition, Viktor had been styling Yuuri's hair before and brushing out the tangles afterward. Small gestures which had become impossible for Yuuri to live without. In fact, if he let his mind linger long enough, he could count the small gestures that had built the love between them from their first moments together.

A contented sigh exhaled from Yuuri's lips, causing Viktor to raise his eyebrow. "What are you thinking about, Yuuri?"

 _The way you say my name while rolling your tongue_ , Yuuri thought bringing bright red dots to his face. "Us," was the only word he could squeak out.

Viktor set the comb on the table, lying back and pulling Yuuri until he was nestled against his chest. He was acutely aware that they were separated only by towels and took advantage of the chance to run his hands on Yuuri's naked back once again. "That is my favorite thought, mon amour," Viktor whispered into Yuuri's hair using the French phrase because it sounded as lovely as he felt.

Lifting his head, Yuuri found Viktor's lips waiting for his own. Sharing another slow kiss, broken only by their unyielding smiles, both partners let their happiness fill the room to the brim. Breaking away, Viktor brought another kiss to Yuuri's forehead, loving every second of the easy affection. "Time to sleep now, my little pork cutlet bowl." Viktor laughed when Yuuri pinched his side.

"Don't leave me," Yuuri whispered as his heavy eyelids drooped into sleep.

"Never," Viktor whispered into Yuuri's hair before joining the love of his life in peaceful sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Let's Shock the World Together**

 **Immediately Post Reunion in Episode 9 (Also see: how Viktor proposed the pair skate to Yuuri)  
**

 **I smile every time I see or read anything about these two! I am going to keep writing these little stories simply to appease my romance-loving heart. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do :).**

 **Thank you for all the wonderful feedback so far!**

* * *

They stayed standing, arms wrapped around each other, until their position began to hinder other travelers who were attempting to move around them. Linking hands, they walked from the terminal, Makkachin happily racing between their legs. The heaviness in Yuuri's heart dissipated with every step, the strong sense of home surrounding him not because of the geographical location, but because of the man tightly clinging to his hand.

"Yuuri, are you tired?" Viktor smiled down at him, eyebrow raised.

Yuuri shook his head. Even with the traveling and the impending jet-lag, he felt the need to move. Glancing toward the distant Ice Castle, he nodded quietly without speaking.

Similar thoughts had crossed Viktor's mind, although he had no intention of overworking his skater. He merely wanted time together in a place that felt like it belonged to them and them alone. Silence continued to hang between them. It was in times of comfortable quiet that Viktor had grown to realize how much he loved Yuuri. Every second wasn't required to be filled with laughter or words, because the love was always present. For the first time, Viktor felt settled.

No words were exchanged as the pair changed into their skate clothes, no longer shying away from running their eyes over exposed skin as they switched from street clothes to practice clothes. As they laced their skates, Makkachin lying between them, Viktor broke the silence. "I have completed all your paperwork for the Grand Prix Finale." He smiled when he saw the redness on Yuuri's cheeks. His beloved blushed over everything, and he adored it every time. "I also registered you to perform an exhibition piece, since I am confident you will medal. I thought you should skate for fun, even if it is only once."

Yuuri frowned at his blades. Skating was always fun, even when he was banging his face into the ice. "I have never performed an exhibition piece." Still frowning, Yuuri raised his eyes to meet Viktor's. "Aren't you concerned with me learning a new piece right before finals?"

Viktor moved to Yuuri's side, raising him from the bench by his hand. "I don't believe you will have a problem with this one. Allow me to show you what I have in mind." Viktor skated onto the ice, leaving Yuuri to stand with the remote in his hand. "Hit play, this first part is just for you."

The music filled the rink, making Yuuri smile. He watched as Viktor moved over the ice. A season off had not dampened his coach's skills. The routine was recognizable immediately, one that Yuuri had already memorized. Unable to focus on the steps, he watched in awe as Viktor flew across the ice, the epitome of grace and beauty. Viktor hadn't ceased surprising Yuuri since the time he had first began watching his long-hair idol grace his television screen. This time was no different. He was so enthralled in Viktor's moments, Yuuri failed to hear Viktor call his name.

Coming to rest directly in front of Yuuri, Viktor laughed when Yuuri startled and fell down. Bending over his red-faced partner, Viktor brushed the hair away from Yuuri's forehead and spoke. "Please don't injure yourself this close to the finals." Viktor chuckled at Yuuri's pout, "and please listen when I ask you to pause the music. I am your coach after all." Yuuri's pout was now accompanied by a raised eyebrow and Viktor briefly lost his train of thought. His brain had gone hazy staring at Yuuri's puckered bottom lip.

The heart beat in Yuuri's chest was audible in his ears. Being close to Viktor no longer made him nervous, it was a different sort of rhythm that tapped through his body now. A rhythm that was uniquely in sync with Viktor's own heartbeat.

Shaking his head, Viktor stood pulling Yuuri with him. There was plenty of time for loving later when they returned home, right now Viktor wanted to show Yuuri his idea, before he lost the confidence to do so. Gently removing the remote from Yuuri's hand, Viktor lead Yuuri on the ice by the other. "See, I would have you start, just as I did," Viktor paused, hands on Yuuri's hips in the middle of the ice, "and then after the second jump, I will join you." His chest was pressed to Yuuri's back and felt the gasp as much as he had heard it.

"Pair skating?" Yuuri turned himself, not moving to create space, letting his chest take the place of where his back had previously rested. "Can we do that?" More than anything, Yuuri wanted to do exactly that.

Spurred by Yuuri's hopeful expression, Viktor placed a light hand on Yuuri's flushed cheek. "I live to shock the world, won't you join me? It will be our history." The sparkle in Yuuri's eyes, with the smallest of tears forming on the rim was too much for Viktor to handle and he gave in to his need to kiss Yuuri deeply.

The thought of pair skating with Viktor was humming in his ears as lips met lips. Kissing Viktor was still a new activity for Yuuri and he was eager to practice at any time. The feeling of this kiss felt exemplified by their location, standing in the middle of the rink where it had all began. Yuuri let himself fall into it, wrapping his arm tight around Viktor's waist while lacing his free hand into his favorite head of silver hair.

There was something Viktor had intended to be doing. He tried in vain to fight the knowledge that they needed to be working, not liking the tickle of responsibility invading into the intimacy. Breaking away, his resolve was almost completely broken when Yuuri's pout returned emphasized even more now by kiss-swollen lips. "You are killing me, Yuuri," Viktor whispered, "let me show you the routine so we can get home and return to this thought." He backed away from the other skater, knowing physical distance was the only way to move their progress forward. "This is how I imagined the routine."

Yuuri watched as Viktor moved around him, sometimes guiding him to show him the beginning of the steps they would perform. The routine was beautiful in its simplicity, designed to highlight the connection between the two men. It had been Yuuri's job to show Russia how powerful their love was, but in Barcelona, they would finally show the world as a pair. Moving together reminded Yuuri of dancing on the beach with Viktor and Makkachin, a natural fit that brought out the best in both skaters. As they rotated roles, the flow of the routine was a replica of the strength and support that were the foundations of their relationship. With every lift, Yuuri couldn't decide if his body or his heart were flying higher.

As they spun on the ice, Viktor felt all his breath being stolen by the soft smile and bright eyes of his partner. This man who he had loved in one way or another for a year was moving with him now as if they had always moved as one. He knew that when they took the ice together in Barcelona, no matter where Yuuri had placed on the podium, the whole world would see that love wins. Over medals and titles, love would always be the winner.

They practiced for hours, sometimes serious, often laughing over missteps and bumping bodies. When Yuuri flubbed his first jump on the last time through his solo opening, Viktor had lifted him full-body from the ice calling practice to be officially over. Yuuri squealed and attempted to escape Viktor's arms, eventually knocking both of them onto the ice in a jumble of arms and legs. Looking down at Viktor's head cradled in Yuuri's palm, Yuuri brushed away the hair that characteristically hung over his love's eye. It was his turn to lean in, stealing the opportunity from Viktor to initiate the kiss.

They lay on the ice together until they began to shiver. Once on their feet, they left as they had arrived, fingers laced into fingers, hips bumping as they skated side-by-side. The hot springs and warm food awaited their arrival at home, along with a night of peaceful comfort in each other's arms. Together they would shock the world in Barcelona, doing something no one had ever done before, but tonight they were content to be together without the world's eyes upon them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Shall we dance?**

 **This one has been mulling in my brain for a bit, and while I hate the idea of Yuri (Yuuri) hurting, I think this might be my favorite moment so far. This is post episode 9, pre 10 but after the moment I posted about them in the ice rink. (Good grief, I hope you could follow that!)**

 **Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

* * *

Practice had been a special breed of horrible. The demons now screaming in Yuuri's mind were loud enough to drown out all external sound. Cupping his hands over his ears, he let his knees press all the air from his chest as he rocked on the floor by his bed.

It was there that Viktor had found his boyfriend, a shivering pile of anxiety banging his back repeatedly against his bed frame. Makkachin had been the first to rush to his aid, practically tearing the door off of the hinges to reach Yuuri. Viktor had always been convinced that Makkachin was a special sort of dog, but when his beloved poodle had sprung from the floor of the hot spring and rushed at full speed to Yuuri's door, Viktor had realized it was more than that. As Viktor had bonded with Yuuri, so had Makkachin, and Yuuri's anxiety had slowly become predictable to the brown fluff ball. Viktor had launched himself from the hot spring, grabbing only a towel as he chased Makkachin down the hallway and through Yuuri's door.

"My Yuuri," Viktor cooed, approaching the shaking mass of his boyfriend slowly. It was a constant worry of Viktor's that he would startle Yuuri mid-panic and the young man would have a heart attack. Continuing to speak low, loving words, Viktor lowered himself to the floor, quietly slipping an arm around Yuuri and pulling him into Viktor's damp lap. There were times when Yuuri's anxiety was so high that touching him could be a dangerous risk. It seemed tonight that Yuuri needed to be comforted, held, loved, and stroked back to reality. Viktor was happy to oblige in the coddling of the man he loved so dearly, even if his own heart was aching painfully in his chest reminding him how closely knit their emotions had become.

It was like talking himself off a ledge, but Yuuri had long ago realized that he couldn't get himself there on his own. Until Viktor had convinced him that love was worth the risk, Yuuri had been wrongly stubborn about his need to hide this part of him. As he lay with his ear on Viktor's bare chest, sandwiched between damp skin and panting fur, Yuuri began to feel grounded in reality. Part of him wanted to stay there, never moving from the security of what had become his tiny family. The other part of him wanted to move. Not in a defiant way, but in a way to release the pressure. He needed music and movement to shake loose the doom that was crashing upon him in waves.

At Yuuri's request, Viktor sent a message to Minako asking to borrow the studio. He eased Yuuri off his lap, leaving Makkachin to continue to provide comfort. Intending to slip from the room, he paused when Yuuri whispered his name.

"Viktor?" The voice was small and feeble, splintering Viktor's heart with every syllable. "Could you borrow something of mine? I'm scared to let you leave."

The tears threatening his eyes burned against his eyelids as Viktor slammed them shut. Yuuri needed him to be strong right now, to concentrate on Yuuri's emotions above his own. The breaking of his heart over the pain in his love's voice would have to mend itself without assistance. "Of course," he replied lightly, turning around to smile down at Yuuri, "your clothes smell like you and I love how you smell." Viktor saw the blush and a wink of a smile appear on Yuuri's face. When Yuuri had worked himself into a blind panic, the only way through was to chip at the ice walls of Yuuri's anxiety igloo. Padding around the room which had long ago been memorized, Viktor slid on sweat pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Unlike Viktor's sweats, Yuuri's had little braided ties that hung loose from the waist. Something about them fascinated Viktor and he always borrowed these particular pants whenever Yuuri would let him.

As the clouds parted around Yuuri's mind, he let the smile escape watching Viktor toy with the white strings of Yuuri's sweatpants on Viktor's body. He loved that he knew before Viktor had chosen them that this would be the pair he would choose. Even with the anxiety pounding against him, he could see Viktor in front of him, a bright spot guiding him back to what was real. Viktor's patience had changed the way Yuuri fought his demons, and although he was far from achieving a final release from his anxiety, he knew that Viktor wouldn't give up on him mid-fight. It allowed Yuuri to cry when he needed to and hide when there was nothing else left. Viktor and Makkachin always found him though, throwing light into the darkest parts of him and reminding him that fighting alone was no longer an option. Resolved, Yuuri kissed Makkachin on the head and rose to his feet.

Cautiously, Viktor reached for Yuuri's hand, winding their fingers together. As they walked through the hallway, none of Yuuri's family dared to speak to them or approach them, with the exception of Mari who slipped a bottle of sake into the gym bag attached to Viktor's hip. Silently they left the house, Makkachin quietly parading ahead of them, headed for Minako's studio.

It was unlocked when they reached the doors and unoccupied, however, the lights were on which meant Minako herself had prepped the room for them before leaving. The familiar smell of floor polish swept over Yuuri and he let it surrounded him, concentrating on the peace he always found in this place. They still hadn't spoken much, but Yuuri wasn't concerned. He had read somewhere that the sign of real happiness with another person was not needing to fill every second with conversation to be comfortable. If that was true, Viktor created the most happiness in his life that he had ever known.

Music filled the studio as Viktor returned to his side, remote tucked into the pocket of his sweats. Without a word, Viktor removed the bottle of sake and offered it to Yuuri. He wouldn't allow Yuuri to practice for most of tomorrow anyway, so why not add alcohol to the mix? As a coach, the suggestion was ludicrous, but as Yuuri's friend and partner, Viktor was hopeful it would bring Yuuri out of his head, even for a little while.

Yuuri boldly snapped the bottle from Viktor's fingers, drinking more than his fair share without lowering the bottle. It hit him hard and he struggled to remain in control of his facial expressions. He hadn't drank in quite some time, knowing that his actions were always questionable while under the influence, but tonight he felt safe giving in, knowing that Viktor would be there. He handed the bottle to Viktor and watched as he gingerly lifted it to drink the remaining contents. It wouldn't be long before they were both a mess, potentially unable to return to the house. Glancing around, Yuuri noted the fully-prepped futon in the corner of the studio. It appeared that Minako didn't expect them to leave tonight either.

Viktor watched as Yuuri's shoulders relaxed, reaching a hand out to massage away the remaining tension. When Yuuri moaned, the effects of the alcohol swirled the sound through Viktor's brain, encouraging him forward to wrap his arms around Yuuri. Fingers caressing the taut muscles of Yuuri's back, Viktor whispered in his ear, "shall we dance?"

That was all the encouragement Yuri needed to straighten his back and pull Viktor into a proper dance frame. Viktor may have the strength to lift him on the ice, but Yuuri was going to work out his nervous tension by leading Viktor around on the dance floor. It hadn't been that long ago that Yuuri would have shut down following a practice as horrible as the one from that day. With Viktor though, he was learning new ways to combat the dark oppression of his brain, including learning to engage in situations where Yuuri could remain in absolute control. Dancing, especially with Viktor, had become one of his favorite tools to banish the darkness from his mind.

Viktor's body was vibrating with the feeling of Yuuri controlling their dance. Yuuri guided with implied demand, never losing sight of his eyes or missing a step. As they spun across the floor, Viktor felt the hand slip into position and before he could voice concern, Yuuri had lifted him in the air, with his shoulders arched back toward his feet. His body easily recalled the feeling of Yuuri dominating him on the dance floor and absolutely ached for it to never stop. He melted into Yuuri, letting him use Viktor's body as a release of stress, letting Yuuri guide him wherever he pleased. A sigh escaped as he watched Yuuri begin to soften, the deep lines in his forehead disappearing as the soft smile took their place. This was when Yuuri was his most beautiful and Viktor drank in the image like a desert stranded man drinking water for the first time.

Together they moved seamlessly through the room, covering every inch of the wooden dance floor. They were a mesmerizing blur of body parts, no evidence of where one man stopped and the other began. The music swirled around them, providing mere background noise to the beauty of the story being told through their movements. Their love was being painted through the room, a tapestry of growth and strength that had been intricately woven between their lives. Individually they had scores of accomplishments and accolades, but their personal lives lacked color. Together, their worlds exploded unable to contain the amount of love and inspiration exponentially growing with every second spent entangled.

When the song faded and another began, they paused, holding each other with chests panting clumsily pressed together. The song that had been Viktor's, which Yuuri had copied calling Viktor to his side, had become theirs, and now it filled the room with the electricity of their bond. Although they weren't on the ice, they began to move through the room, dancing instead of skating, never more than a breath apart. When they separated briefly their eyes stayed locked, watching every movement the other made.

Yuuri's chest swelled, the panic had vanished replaced only by the overwhelmingly intense love for the man dancing in beat with him. He had forgotten to feel self-conscious, forgotten that dancing hadn't always been something he shared with the world. In that moment, Viktor was the whole world and Yuuri wanted nothing more than to continue to share this dance with him. Breaking routine, Yuuri reached for Viktor's hand, spinning him in a forceful but delicate way back to Yuuri's body. When their noses touched, Yuuri angled his face, stealing the kiss from Viktor's lips with a smile.

There had been so many times that Viktor had been knocked senseless by Yuuri's power and beauty. He felt in that moment, in the need and passion pouring from Yuuri into him, that his heart was going to overflow and burst. Had life ever felt like this before Yuuri? Viktor had spent most of his hours waiting for Yuuri to return to Japan analyzing that exact thought, knowing the answer was a resounding no. Yuuri had turned the light on in his life. His anxious, insecure, frustrating Yuuri had lit his world on fire. That fire was consuming Viktor in an addictive way, in a way that Viktor had resolved to never live without. He had made a decision during those long hours after Makkachin was deemed to be okay and before Yuuri launched himself into Viktor's arms in the terminal. It was a decision that would keep Yuuri in his life forever, in the exact way Viktor wanted him to be. He hadn't been kidding when he had mentioned a marriage proposal to Yuuri, and Yuuri's blushingly bright smile had done nothing to deter Viktor from his course. Barcelona would change their lives and their relationship forever.

Somehow while both of them were lost in sensation, they had found themselves toppling onto the futon, arms and legs entwined as they landed softly on the bed. Viktor's hand held the back of Yuuri's head, fingers lost in the tangle of black hair. In the back of Viktor's mind, he made a mental note to brush the mess away, but it quickly faded when he felt Yuuri's fingers slip passed the hem of his sweatpants. Pulling away so his face hovered over Yuuri's, Viktor raised a seductive eyebrow, "is your plan to defile Minako's dance studio?" Viktor couldn't contain his laugh at the instant blush across Yuuri's cheeks. "Too vulgar for my sweet Yuuri's ears?"

Viktor was teasing him, an act that could equally annoy and entice Yuuri. Fueled by the alcohol swimming in his veins and his heightened arousal from dancing, Yuuri's brain encouraged him to throw Viktor off his game. Moving quickly, he flipped Viktor on his back, holding back his laughter at the surprised noise that escaped his boyfriend. Viktor had worked hard to teach Yuuri about his eros, and Yuuri thought it was time to use it against Viktor in a real way. Without the ice between them and thousands of people watching, there was nothing to cool the sizzling heat between them. "Never take your eyes off of me," Yuuri whispered, moving over Viktor.

 _This man is going to be the death of me_ , Viktor sighed internally for what had to be the hundredth since meeting Yuuri Katsuki. But he knew, beyond a doubt, that he would die happy.


End file.
